As Cadet 17 stepped through the large door, an unsettling silence enveloped him. The space beyond was vast, a cavernous expanse filled with sleek machinery and containment units that thrummed with barely restrained energy. Yet, despite the apparent size of the room, a strange sense of claustrophobia settled over him. It was a stark contrast to the vast antechamber they had just left—a room about three times larger than this one. The lab, though spacious, felt constricting, as if the very air within was pressing in on him.
Screens filled the walls and various stations throughout the lab, cycling rapidly through biometric, physiological, and biographical data related to the elementals within the containment units. These screens displayed anatomical visuals and other data, but the language on them was inscrutable, shifting between various forms of script that Cadet 17 had never encountered. Each language seemed to affect him differently, as if they were more than just symbols on a screen.
One script gave off a faint impression of lightness, almost manic in its energy, leaving him with a fleeting sense of euphoria that quickly dissipated. Another language was harsh, the symbols grating on his senses as if scraping gravel across his eyes. Yet another script felt so vast and deep that he could almost fall into the letters, as though they were gateways to some unfathomable abyss. These languages flickered across the various floating displays and arrays too quickly for him to focus on any one script for long.
Cadet 17 realized that the displays were likely attuned to the reading speed of the super-humanly developed lab technicians who normally operated here. For him, they were fast enough to be overwhelming but not unreadable. The impressions the languages left on his mind were like background conversations in foreign tongues—noticeable, but not intrusive enough to breach his reinforced will.
The first thing that drew his attention was the elementals. Encased within their transparent prisons, these beings of raw, untamed energy shifted and writhed constantly. As Cadet 17 moved cautiously through the lab, he noticed that not all of the elementals were dormant. Some crackled with energy, their forms shifting restlessly within their cages. Flames flickered, lightning arced, and shadows writhed, but none of the elementals seemed aware of his presence. It was as though they were blind and deaf to everything outside their containment units, trapped in a perpetual cycle of chaotic energy with no connection to the space around them.
Unlike the typical elementals he had encountered before, which were bound to a single element, these beings displayed a peculiar fluidity within their elemental type. A fire elemental might shift into a storm of lightning, or a whirl of smoke, while a water elemental could transform into a swirling mist or a dense block of ice. Each one was a manifestation of pure elemental power, dangerous and unpredictable even in captivity. Yet, despite their constant motion, there was an eerie silence within the containment units. The elementals, chaotic and wild, made no noise. Their tumultuous energy was entirely self-contained, as if they were isolated from the world beyond their glass-like prisons.
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This realization only heightened the unsettling atmosphere of the lab. The silence, combined with the restless energy contained within the elementals, created a dissonance that set Cadet 17 on edge. His footsteps echoed faintly in the oppressive stillness, a stark contrast to the visual turmoil contained just a few feet away. The chill that had clung to him since their descent into the lower levels seemed more pervasive here, the sterile atmosphere amplifying the sensation. It wasn’t just cold—it was as if the air itself was leeching warmth and energy from his body, leaving him feeling hollow and uneasy.
Cadet 17’s gaze was drawn to a pedestal at the center of the room. A single spotlight overhead cast a harsh beam of light onto the object displayed there—a vest that seemed out of place among the sleek, modern technology surrounding it. Unlike the machinery and containment units, the vest had an ancient quality to it, as if it had been unearthed from another time, another world. It was adorned with intricate designs, runes that pulsed faintly with a soft, almost hypnotic rhythm. The runes seemed to elegantly flow into and out of each other in some places, like delicate cursive, but the closer they got to the gem in the center, the rougher and more primal the etchings became.
As he moved closer, Cadet 17’s eyes drifted to the consoles that lined the walls. Instead of Common Basic, the buttons on the consoles were adorned with arcane symbols, unfamiliar and enigmatic. The keyboard was dimly lit, its runes barely visible in the low light. However, one singular rune in the center of the keyboard was faintly pulsing, drawing Cadet 17's attention. The pulse was slow and rhythmic, almost beckoning him to interact with it. It seemed clear that this button was significant, though its exact purpose remained unclear for the moment.
His eyes followed the runes on the vest, noting the delicate carvings and the way they seemed to shift and change in the dim light. The centerpiece of the vest was a gem embedded in its fabric—a dark stone that seemed to absorb the light around it. Cadet 17 felt an odd pulling sensation in his core, a subtle tug that originated from deep within him, somewhere near his stomach. It was a sensation he didn’t fully understand, but one that was impossible to ignore.
As he approached the pedestal, his focus was entirely on the vest. The eerie stillness of the lab seemed to fade into the background, the muted hum of the machines and the restless movements of the elementals becoming distant and insignificant. His hand hovered over the vest for a moment, hesitating as he considered the implications of what he was about to do.
Despite his usual detachment, Cadet 17 couldn’t shake a small feeling of apprehension, a nagging voice in the back of his mind warning him that this was no ordinary artifact. The atmosphere in the lab was thick with tension, the kind that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. But his training took over, and he pushed the feeling aside, compartmentalizing it as best he could.